


Lay Me Down

by fupette



Category: Leverage
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Injury, Recovery, Team as Family, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25535488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fupette/pseuds/fupette
Summary: Parker relies on herself & her teammates to escape a mission gone wrong.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Embarrassingly) English is my first language, all spellings and grammar issues are my own. My Irish spellings might annoy readers, but that is how my brain is wired & my spell check is configured!. 
> 
> I wish I had the gift of brevity (I don’t), over generous use of punctuation (guilty as charged & badly deployed). 
> 
> I’ve read a number of similar stories to what I’ve written here, so I can’t claim any credit here for the storyline, I’m a sucker for a good hurt/comfort story and I’m a fan of this tv show’s humour & team dynamic. Rating this as Teens just to be safe, but honestly this could easily be a Gen story.

It is dark…too dark; the inky blackness hung on the cloudless sky. A darkness punctuated only by angry voices. The cacophony of shouts melding into a garbled threatening snarl. Angry voices belonging to angry men, getting closer - not too far behind. In fact, Parker judged their proximity to be too close, worryingly close and getting closer all the time.

Quick & light, escape & run. It was a simple mantra, the imperative of escape compelling frantic strides that pushed her further into the dark night. The thoughts from the deepest recesses of her mind told her, speed is how you survive, when a heist goes to complete crap. It is important to fallback on the basics, instincts honed from a lifetime of jobs. The basics repeated in time to her strides, light & quick, light & quick, escape & run, escape & run. 

The autopilot response fuelled her fearless headlong sprint. The instinct flared strongly, overcoming any rational logic, the desperate need to put distance between herself and this rapidly deteriorating situation was visceral. No matter how fast you are, you cannot outrun a bullet, this was not a race she could win. The men in chase were livid and likely to deploy violence. The heavy footfall of her pursuers gaining on her, left her with little choice, it took one impetuous leap to propel herself through the night air, into the awaiting river. Not an elegant escape route, by any objective measure, but Parker wagered it would be enough to see her clear of her irate chasers, their earlier eager baying replaced by a relative passivity. Their apprehensive faces scanned the riverside environs, no one would be foolhardy enough to join her in an ill-advised night swim, hired guns after all need to be alive to collect their next paycheque. 

The coldness of the water, assaulted Parker’s senses, the jolting reality of the freezing water confirming, if there was ever any doubt, that no-one would follow her into the river’s icy depths. Parker quickly mused she had simply traded one set of problems for this new marginally less precarious predicament, as the current tugged her inexorably downstream. 

Her climbing boots were a heavy millstone robbing her of an easy buoyancy, as the juddering water carried her along. The choppy current made it difficult to breathe, as the surging water barrelled her onwards. She knew better than to fight it, especially as the freezing water was sapping vital energy from her. It was difficult to suppress the natural urge to struggle against the water, but she knew that panicking would only exacerbate the situation. She just needed to ride this out, put distance between the chasing men & herself.

The relief she felt as a final lethargic kick freed her last boot, was short-lived, it was as if the mere act of feeling anything but all encompassing cold expended too much of her ever dwindling energy reserves. Her struggle to keep afloat in the water was compounded by the insipid chill that seeped into every pore, into every fibre of her being. Her focus remained on staying afloat, however with each minute this proved a greater challenge. The cold water was freezing her thoroughly, making her muscles burn with the exertion of keeping her head above water, the lethargy even making her eye lids heavy. The tiredness was an inviting siren’s call into oblivion, the coldness harkening to a lulling sleep, it was becoming painful to fight the effects of hypothermia of her own traitorous body. Despite her valiant efforts to the contrary, Parker briefly rested her eyes but the sleep that overtook her at last.


	2. Chapter 2

Thump!, the flaming red-hot tendrils of pain temporarily knocked her from her cold stupor. The pain radiating from her left side jolted her with a force that robbed her momentarily of breath. Had she fallen asleep?, What had struck her? a myriad of questions sloshed around in her unresponsive mind. It soon became apparent that her progress downstream had been halted when her rig had surreptitiously tangled in the base of one of the city’s old bridges. 

Out!, the clarity of this urgent need shone through her tired and pained mind. It took several awkward minutes for Parker’s usually deft lock-picking fingers to free herself from the former security of her climbing rig, that now half-tethered her to the bridge. With one determined effort, she prised herself from her harness and onto the low ledge of the plateaued bridge foundation, her movements both ungainly and laboured.

Parker braced herself against the cold, her abandoned sodden rig had been an extra layer against the cold night, but she could not afford to dwell on this point. She knew she must keep moving, quick & light. Even blinking seemed an energy sapping chore, but her practised eyes scanned the vicinity for an escape route. The non-working comms fizzled a static noise in her ear, everything seemed fuzzy and other-worldly to Parker’s addled mind. Quick & light; escape & run. She could feel the throbbing in her left side as her tired body screamed for respite from this ongoing ordeal. As she uncoordinatedly pulled herself from her slumped position, letting her shivering body rest against bridge, she calmed herself with quick deep breaths and finally discarded her earbud. 

Ignoring her headache, she tried to assess her situation. The pain in her left shoulder suggested a dislocation, unhelpfully a twinge from her ribs remind her that her abused shoulder was not the single source of the discomfort. With a stoicism belying her protesting body, a grim-faced Parker struggled to remain on her feet propping herself against the bridge wall. Circulation was returning slowly and painfully to her purple water-puffed extremities. She knew she should utilise the numbing effect that the cold had on her aching body, she needed to persevere through the pain, her inaction was not helping her. She knew she needed to escape her new predicament, being exposed here, out in the cold made her feel vulnerable and anxious. Escape & run.

Her keen eyes assessed her climb to the road, Parker steeled herself for the upcoming struggle. She regretted the loss of her sturdy climbing boots as she dismally observed the lack of hand or footholds on the wall-face and an over abundance of barbed wire, a cruel taunting twinkle of pointy barbs covering the wall, her escape route to the roadside and by extension salvation. The reality of the situation was worse then she imagined as she scaled the wall. Needle-y sharpness pricked and stung, making her exposed feet and hands slick with blood. She mechanically climbed, unable to call upon her usual quick and fast feline grace. With her left shoulder unable to fully carry her weight, speedy progress was an impossibility. Her methodical climb continued undaunted, the pain in her hands & feet, married with her other assorted aches & pains peaking to a crescendo of fiery pain as she finally hefted herself to the roadside, unable to shield her abused shoulder from the tumbling motion as she once again returned to terra firma.

Parker bit down on her lip to keep from crying out, the simple act of walking shouldn’t be this painful, even pain-free moments seemed like a distant memory, the numbness of the freezing water a blissful memory. The soreness radiated up from her feet, her walking motion deteriorated into a stumbling gait as she tried fruitlessly to gain a swift momentum that would keep weight off her swollen feet. The dirt, bruises, blood and dark clothes allowed her to assimilate into the murky night, not as light and quick as she desired, but heavy & slow, lumbering towards the promised safety of home


	3. Chapter 3

Parker remained rooted to the spot, puzzled to find Leverage HQ empty, she has assumed that the team would have rendezvoused as usual for the obligatory post-mission debrief. 

Her momentary inactivity awoke the dormant pain in the soles of her feet, she’d assumed she’d worn those nerves into a painful submission on her trudge through the city. With gritted teeth, she went in search of Elliott’s first aid kit, leaving a trail of bloodied footprints in her wake.

In situ on the floor, the wall propping Parker upright as the upturned contents of the first aid kit, gauze and bandages lay casually littering the floor. Red shaky hands tended inexpertly to the first in her litany of injuries. Sophie’s fancy afghan enveloped her small shuddering frame as her body tried desperately to absorb some needed heat from the soft wool. Nate’s whiskey acted as a makeshift antiseptic, as crusted blood was wiped away from hands and feet with great care. With an absorbed concentration, Parker proceeded to pick the river & city detritus from her abused feet, dirt, grit, gravel and twigs had became embedded in an angry assorted jumble on her soles, her bloodied swollen hands made hard work of the cleaning, her tiredness robbing her nimble fingers of their dexterous grace. After a while, the urge to sleep could no longer be ignored, despite the protestations of her sore ribs, bonelessly Parker slumped into the inviting cocoon of her afghan blanket and the welcome embrace of unconsciousness. She’d tend to her injuries once her need for rest was sated.

Dimly Parker could hear noises, they seemed less threatening then the earlier riverside voices but Parker willed for the hubbub to quieten, the warmth of the blanket and the oblivion of sleep remained her top priorities. The noises didn’t heed her wish, as the voices morphed into more urgent and beckoning chatter. Sophie’s exclamation of “Bloody Hell!” in her most indignant upper-crust voice roused Parker with a jolt. From her prone position on the floor, Parker became dimly aware of four sets of worried eyes examining her. Irritably she tried to shrink back into the afghan, hoping that her team would lose interest and let her rest, as if be sheer dint of her will to ignore them, they too would lose interest in her. 

Hardison approached first, crouching beside her, words of mumbled encouragement whispered into her ears in his honied baritone, deftly Hardison took her listless body into his strong arms, the new embrace finally imbuing Parker’s frigid body with some real heat. 

Fighting her groggy confusion, Parker was next aware that Sophie was cooing comforting words, as she disentangled Parker from the blanket, carefully keeping jostling to a minimum. Although the words seemed nonsensical to Parker, the hitch in Sophie’s breath when she surveyed the extent of her injuries left no ambiguity for interpretation. As if sensing his cue, Elliot enters her eye line, with authority he took charge of tending to Parker’s wounds, words like 'heat' and 'core temperature' pass between Elliot & Hardison. Parker can’t follow the ensuing instructions, as Nate & Sophie bustle into adjoining rooms while much to her relief Hardison keeps her rooted to his warmth. 

Elliot’s punchy hands continue working with a tender ease, checking her injuries, his rhythm is methodical and the almost hypnotic. Hardison’s presence keeps her calm, snuggled into the crook of his arms, it is easy to let the time melt away and embrace sleep once again. Sophie approaches first with a pair of flannel pyjamas and towels . Nate appears back with bunny and steaming mug. Parker smiles at their thoughtfulness, wistfully reflecting that perhaps this is what it feels like to have real parents, the kind that show care & concern.


	4. Chapter 4

Parker tries fruitlessly to help, as Sophie and Hardison exchanged her sodden black clothes for the warm comfort of the new pyjamas but her lethargy has left her limbs with an unresponsive rag-doll quality. There has been far too much fussing and preening for Parker’s liking but there is no denying that she is pretty helpless. As Elliot continues his ministrations, Nate takes the opportunity to ply Parker with the foul warm liquid proffered from the mug. Parker feels tiny and fragile as Elliot returns to move her to the nearby couch with Hardison in-tow, both of them hovering over her expectantly. 

Sophie has proffered a fresh blanket and Parker begins to feel human again, but this doesn’t dissuade her teammates from trading worried expressions and talking at a speed that befuddles her tired mind. There has been no complaints about the botched mission, no recriminations or anger… Parker is confused… disorientated by the overwhelming concern of her team, now that she is warm and lucid she was expecting to be read the riot act for something, anything…. the concern is as unexpected as it is welcome.

With her wounds tended by Elliot and her core temperature slowly rising to normal, Parker begins to feel genuinely better. A couple of fingers have been splinted and her swollen bloodied hands have been swaddled in bandages, her ribs and left shoulder still hurt, but this is manageable if she stays still, which has become an easier task now that she is no longer shivering with the cold. The tight wrap of bandages on her ribs retains the heat from the blanket. Her sore left arm is cocooned in a loose sling, her abused feet are hidden under bandages and plushy slippers. Elliot proclaims her to be out of immediate danger from hypothermia, but talks about the dangers of concussion, to the assembled team standing sentry in front of her, as Parker tries to snake her free hand from under the blanket to investigate her sore head.

“Parker?” Nate’s one-worded question flits Parker’s attention back to the present, as Sophie deftly captures Parker’s straying hand and returns it into her lap, the murmurs of encouragement continue unabated as Sohpie’s arm wraps itself around Parker mindful of her injured shoulder. Parker winches imperceptibly, licking her dry lips absent-mindedly trying to pin down a response to Nate’s question from her wibbledy-wobbly mind. A straw hovers close to her lips. "Come on, drink" urges Nate. Parker turns into Sophie’s embrace, groaning a little not wanting more of the pungent hot liquid Nate had earlier provided. "It's just water”, Nate insists, “Just a little, you need to drink something to keep your fluid levels up.”

Parker turns to face the straw sitting invitingly in the glass. Her unbidden thirst causes her to take deep quick gulps. The straw was taken from her greedy lips with a tutting noise. “Parker…. slowly, you are going to make yourself sick”. Nate admonishes her in a concerned tone. Once the straw is again proffered, Parker starts to sip carefully. “Good Girl”, the praise was accompanied by another reassuring hug from Sophie. 

“Parker, I want you to take the paracetamol” Nate’s voice firmly ordering her. Parker knew she didn’t like to take drugs, even an over-the-counter analgesic, but if it meant more water, she felt it prudent to comply. “Elliot left these for you”, Nate informed her off-handedly as he fiddled with the safety cap on the bottle of pills. Parker scanned the room for Hardison and Elliot, a little perplexed that she couldn’t remember when they left or where they’d gone. Nate once again praised her compliance, as he sat the empty water glass next to Elliot’s first-aid supplies. Then in perfect tandem Sophie lowered Parker’s head to her awaiting lap, as Nate lifted her knees onto the free space on the couch. Parker was asleep in this crouched position, as soon as her head reached the makeshift pillow, oblivious to fresh blanket that Nate wrapped around her.


	5. Chapter 5

Parker could hear Sophie’s dulcet tones urging her to wake up. Parker groaned her dissatisfaction, as Nate and Sophie gently raised her weary body into a sitting position. Sophie has announced that she is going to check Parker’s bandages in a tone that demands compliance. When Nate offers a mug of hot chocolate, Parker accepts greedily while Sophie continues her mother-hen routine. Nate stands watch, ensuring Parker doesn’t drink too quickly. “Parker, it’s time to get you cleaned up”, Sophie entreats as she motions for Parker to stand. Dimly Parker realises that despite feeling better, she still must look pretty rough, she can see a patina of bruises and dirt peaking out where bandage intersect with the pyjamas top, her pale skin highlighting the different hues of blues and purples. 

Tentatively Parker made her way to the bathroom, feeling fragile and disorientated by her pounding head. Sophie hovering behind her waiting to help at the first sign of trouble. Despite the slow progress, they made it into the bathroom as Nate had finished filling the large tub. “Sweetie, I’m going to take off the bandages and your PJs, ok?”, Sophie again announced, waiting for Parker to nod in acquiesce. “I’ll leave the splint and the bandages on your ribs, we’ll will tend to those later”, Sophie adds, while unspooling the bandages on Parker’s feet and hands. Nate is unceremoniously ordered from the room, his task to retrieve more bandages and fresh pyjama. With Sophie’s help Parker eases herself into the tub, careful not to jostle her abused shoulder now that she has been liberated from the sling. The warm bath feels like a welcome embrace on Parker’s skin, the water has already lifted a layer of dirt and dried blood giving the water an immediate rusty hue. Sophie gently sponges Parker slowly navigating over the mottled bruises on her back. “Relax, Parker”, Sophie coos, as she continues to trace a sponge over Parker’s body. Parker is totally at ease before Sophie begins her cleaning ministrations on her tender feet, Parker is not sure if it is Sophie’s grifter magic with the reflexology; her head injury; her tiredness or the gentle warmth of the bathwater but Parker could feel herself being lulled into a relaxed almost sleepy state. When Sophie offers to wash her hair, Parker agrees readily, her normal guarded reactions forgotten in the luxury and comfort of the bathtub. 

Once wrapped in towels Sophie makes quick work drying Parker, followed by swaddling Parker’s hands and feet once again in fresh bandages. Her wet rib wrappings are changed also, her new-found cleanliness and fresh pyjamas also helping Parker put some emotional distance between herself and the earlier events. Parker allows herself to be guided into Nate’s bedroom, the large king-sized bed offering a much more appealing prospect than Parker’s more utilitarian room. Whilst propped up by many pillows Sophie combs Parker’s wet hair, Parker again feels the urge to drift off, her hair now dry and bunny returned to her side by Nate with the upmost of care. The last thing Parker’s conscious mind registers is Nate’s offer to Sophie that he'd take the first watch.


	6. Chapter 6

“Parker, stop” Elliot entreats as he seamlessly removes her hand from her hairline. His directions wrested a disorientated Parker from the last vestiges of her restorative slumber. She tries to recall the events that lead her to the bed, recall each small act of kindness & understanding from her teammates that lead her here, safe in the knowledge her teammates had her back.

Elliot used his free hand to gently cup her chin, allowing him an angle to survey the spot where Parker's fingers had unconsciously roamed to. While Elliot examined Parker, she continued to struggle out of the twilight of her sleep. Again trying to reconcile if she was missing time from her memory, she couldn’t place when Elliot had arrived or when Sophie had left. She smiled as Hardison made his presence known, he slipped in behind her on the bed, dislodging some pillows while returning them both to the comfortable form they held earlier on the couch. Hardison really does earn tip-top snuggle points even while he proceeded to bore her with the reminder of the scientific benefits of human touch in aiding recovery. Hardison’s suggestion to get some sleep, was gladly accepted as Parker basked in his protective embrace. She couldn’t really hear Nate & Elliot discuss head trauma, but with Hardison humming their song in her ear, Parker happily tuned out all other distractions. She basked in the feeling of safety & warmth.

“Soups up”, Elliott wafted the scent over Parker’s sleeping form. With Hardison’s help she propped herself up, slowly. Again she feels helpless as he brings the soup spoon to her mouth allowing her to savour Elliott’s delicious soup. Once Parker has made sufficient progress with the soup, Hardison excuses himself from the room, to get them both an orange soda and let Nate & Sophie know the patient is awake again. This allowed Elliot to reevaluate her injuries once more. “How are you feeling, darling?”, he inquiries finally, as he re-wraps her bandages carefully. Parker didn’t have the words to convey her love & gratitude for the care her team had showed her. “I’m a little sore but glad to be with my family” she smiles guilelessly. She was safe, feed & clean she laid back down in the bed trusting that everything would work out ok surrounded by her found family.


End file.
